


If You Really Knew Me

by alltheselittlethings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Romance, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 17:01:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltheselittlethings/pseuds/alltheselittlethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>excerpt:<br/>The real me? I’m scared little boy, forever afraid of being left behind.</p><p>I want to be real.</p><p>But I’m afraid that if I do anything that won’t make me seem like myself, then I’d lose everything.</p><p>And I can’t lose everything; my reputation and my friends.</p><p>I can’t lose those.</p><p>They’re all that I have to hold on to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Really Knew Me

**Author's Note:**

> for this prompt:  
> could you do one where Niall has like a really bad past like he was abused and he cuts and has an e.d. and the boys dont know and they confront him and he tells them in a note. really angsty please thank you so much.

It started small, skipping a meal or two every now and then.

Niall never believed it would turn into this.

After the X Factor, Niall thought he finally got his life right. That he could leave the bad behind, throw himself completely into the music and the band. He wouldn’t have to think about his old life.

But then the hate started.

One Direction got much bigger than anyone had ever imagined. Even his wildest, most creative thoughts, never pictured him here, at the top of the world. It was like an adrenaline rush, felt like he was on some drug. He felt giddy all the time, ecstatic with his new life and his new friends, about being with people he actually cared about.

When the hate started, it felt like crashing. Felt like the floor cracked, then vanished all together, sending him toppling down from the high. He was plunged unmercifully back into a world of constant sadness, constantly being insulted and hated, constantly watching your back for the next person to kick you.

He started skipping meals.

Of course, that wasn’t always possible, not with four teenagers around you constantly, so he gradually began to throw up what little they did manage to make him eat.

The burn felt good, gave him the power of control, in his life where control was sparse.

When that stopped being enough, he started cutting.

It wasn’t intentional- he was trying to fix his shower and cut his hand on a sharp pice of metal- and just like that, he resumed his old bad habit. He had done it before, back before the X Factor, but managed to stop himself before his audition.

Now, it was like all his effort had gone to waste, one accidental cut and he was back into the world of shame and hiding and long sleeve shirts in the summer.

He thought it would be enough, that once he got his braces off, and once he grew up a bit more and got more mature looking, the hate would stop, and he would be alright.

But it wasn’t enough.

It’s still not enough.

“Lunch is ready!” Harry shouts from the kitchen with Liam, calling the attention of Zayn and Louis, who stumble into the kitchen half dressed, eyes half lidded, having just woken up even though it’s one o’clock in the freaking afternoon.

Niall stays in place, slumped onto the couch, flipping aimlessly throughout the TV. channels.

“Coming, Ni?” Liam pokes his head in the room, smiling brightly. Niall shakes his head and continues staring at some infomercial about cleaning supplies. Liam frowns and goes back into the kitchen, talking quietly for a few minutes, before returning with the other boys following behind him.

Louis flicks the TV off, and they all stand around Niall, who looks alarmed and curious.

“We’re worried about you, Niall.” Harry begins, and Niall almost groans, because he’s gone this long without this happening, so why now?

“I’m fine.”

“Niall…”

“I said I’m fine!” The boys look surprised at his loud tone, and Zayn continues on a little defensively.

“Look, we know you, and we know you aren’t fine, so-“

Niall jumps to his feet, face suddenly full of emotion.

“But that’s the thing!” he shouts, eyes flickering maniacally from boy to boy. In the low light of the room, his hair sticking up, hands shaking, eyes red with unshed tears, he looks deranged. Wild.  Like a caged animal, searching incessantly for an escape route that isn’t there. “You don’t know me! You think you do, but you don’t!”

“What are you talking about, Nialler?” Liam’s voice is hesitant. He takes a step closer to the quivering blonde, but Niall quickly stumbles back, intent on keeping distance between him and the boys. If they get too close- close enough to touch- he might lose control and fall into their embrace. He can’t. Not now. He’s gotten this far, and he’s tired of telling lies and keeping secrets. It needs to come out tonight.

“You think you know me so well, all of you. You’ve got me pegged as this happy, carefree thing, this little ball of energy. But I’m not. I’m not carefree, and I’m certainly not happy. It’s, I just…” he trails off, looking desperately at the ground, tapping his foot, twirling his fingers, anything to escape the incriminating gazes of his friends

“You can tell us anything, you know that… right?” Zayn says soothingly, stepping forward, and this time Niall doesn’t step away. Zayn’s always had this effect on him, sort of like a calming ability. The boys usually made fun of it, but no one is complaining now.

“I can’t say it.” Niall whispers miserably, looking desperately up at Zayn, as if he’ll understand and whisk him away. “I can’t say it out loud!” a tear finally escapes, slipping its way down his flushed cheek. Zayn looks back desperately. It’s heartbreaking to see his Nialler so weak and vulnerable, practically falling apart right in front of him, but not being able to do anything about it. No way to help.

Louis pipes up, talking a bit too loudly, but no one reprimands him. “Write it.”

Niall perks up a little, looking curiously at Louis. “What?” he sniffs, furiously wiping away all traces of tears with his jacket sleeve.

“You’re good with words, Nialler. Just write it down and let us read it.”

Niall nods slowly, lips perking up a bit, and stumbles over to his desk and grabs a notebook and pen. He settles down on his bed and begins to write, tongue poking out of his lips in concentration. He scribbles furiously, occasionally wiping a stray tear from his cheek.

The boys share hesitant glances, all thinking the same thing: _What is he hiding?_

After nearly 20 minutes, Niall jumps to his feet and shoves the notebook into Harry’s arms, quickly moving out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Louis is the first to move, snatching the paper out of Harry’s hands and sitting down on the bed to read it. The paper is crinkled where Niall’s hand rested as he wrote, the words smudged with the occasional teardrop.  There are words crossed out and re-written, and the writing is neat and evenly spaced, so unlike Niall’s normal chicken scratch, and that more than anything tells the boys that it means something. There was so much effort put into this one simple sheet of paper.

Zayn, Liam, and Harry settle next to him, craning their necks to read the note, titled “If you really knew me”

_If you really knew me, you’d know that I’m not as happy as you think I am._

_If you really knew me, you’d know that my father used to abuse me._

_If you really knew me, you’d know that my mother turned a blind eye, and that hurt far more than the kicks and punches._

_If you really knew me, you’d know that my brother hasn’t voluntarily spoken to me in 4 years._

_If you really knew me, you’d know that I attempted suicide when I was 15._

_If you really knew me, you’d know that I cut myself._

_If you really knew me, you’d know that I’m not as amazing as you all think; I’m broken and shy and when I look in the mirror, I don’t see what you see._

_I see ugly._

_I see fake blonde hair, ugly teeth, too-pale skin._

_I see fat._

_The real me? I’m scared little boy, forever afraid of being left behind._

_I want to be real._

_But I'm afraid that if I do anything that won't make me seem like myself, then I'd lose everything._

_And I can't lose everything; my reputation and my friends._

_I can't lose those._

_They're all that I have to hold on to._

_I’m sorry._

_Thank you for always being there for me._

_I appreciate it, more than you know._

_-N_

Liam is the first to finish reading. One by one they look up, all sharing similar expressions of shock and disbelief.

They all look up at the sound of shuffling feet to see Niall standing in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes cast downwards.

Louis breaks the silence. “Niall, is this, is-“ he stutters, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes before continuing. “Is this true?”

Niall nods and shrugs, trying to pass it off as no big deal, even though in reality it happens to be a really fucking big deal.

“Show us.” Harry demands, voice deep and crackling. Niall blanches for a second, and Liam butts in.

“No, it’s fine Ni, you don’t-“

Niall interrupts him, “its fine Liam.”

He slides his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and shrugs them down, kicking them off and shivering slightly in his boxers. He pushes them down a little, so that they’re low riding, revealing the marred skin.

It’s horrible, honestly, and they can’t understand how they didn’t notice it before. There are hundreds of cuts, all blended together, a mix of scarred white skin and fresh pink, covering his hipbones and disappearing down into his boxers.

They all flinch and suck in sharp breaths, and Louis starts to cry in earnest, and Niall looks extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed. This would have had to have been going on for years to acquire this many cuts. The thought makes  Zayn feel sick.

All of the sudden Niall collapses, curling into himself and letting out heartbreaking sobs.

Liam is there in an instant, grabbing the small boy and pulling him into his warm grip.

“I- I.. I’m sorry!” Niall sobs, burying his head in Liam’s chest. After a moment of shock, the other boys huddle around him, and this should set off his claustrophobia, but for some reason it doesn’t. He just feels safe and warm and loved, and everything he’s ever wanted to feel.

“It’s ok, love, it’s ok.” Liam whispers into his hair, stroking his back and hugging him tighter. They’re all crying now, and hands are everywhere and Niall doesn’t’ know who’s is who’s, until one scratches behind his ear and he knows it’s Louis, because he’s Louis and likes to do weird things to Niall (not that he objects).

“We love you, Niall, you know that, right?” Niall nods into Liam’s collarbone. “We love you.”

This is only about the thousandth time Niall’s heard this form one of his boys, but for the first time, he actually believes it.

“I love you too”

 

**Author's Note:**

> read it on tumblr:  
> http://iloveniallhoran.tumblr.com/post/40577572302/if-you-really-knew-me-niall-centric-zianourry  
> go ahead and give me a follow?


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